


Day 1- Broken Nose

by Broken_Clover



Series: Goretober 2018 [1]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Blood and Injury, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Axl gets in a bit over his head during a night of drinking.





	Day 1- Broken Nose

Bar fights. Why did there always have to be a goddamn bar fight?

Axl stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He slumped against the far wall, holding one hand out for balance, while the other was preoccupied with trying to stop the torrent of blood that was currently gushing from his face.

“Bloody arsehole, hit me right in the goddamn-”

He managed to open his eyes enough to look into the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The bridge of his nose was crooked, with deep purple bruises already forming across that and spreading out to his eyes and left cheek. And that wasn’t even including the blood that was already caked down his chin and soaking into his shirt (he just _had_ to wear the white one today, didn’t he?) while more was dripping down.

The muffled sounds of the bar fight were still raging outside. It hadn’t even been his fault this time, just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Axl knew how to get out of scrapes, but of course some wasted nutcase just had to peg him right in the face with a barstool right before he could make it out and sent him flying.

“Agh…” He knew that it would hurt when he touched it, but he did it anyway. Taking in a sharp inhale of pain made his face sting more, and the tangy scent of blood seep into his lungs.

Axl had been punched in the face before. Hell, he’d actually broken his nose twice. But at least then, it had been a pretty easy shot back home, back to safety and the ice packs stashed in the freezer. The best he had was a dingy, appliance-free motel room (thanks, shitty future) that was at least a couple miles beyond the fighting going on outside. And of _course_ he had to be a fire-user, without a damn clue on how to even make window frost.

Trying to book it out of there, especially in his condition, was a shitty idea in and of itself. Someone would clock him over the head as soon as he opened the door. The bathroom at least seemed safe enough, actually having a door lock. Maybe it’d just be best for him to wait for the fighting to cool down a little (or at least for some of those drunken morons to pass out) and then head back. He could be patient, if it meant not getting his head bashed in.

With a groan, he realized that the blood was still flowing. He swiped a fistful of paper towels from the dispenser and tried to mop up some of the mess, before just trying to stem the flow as gently as possible. It still hurt to press anything up against his face, but at that point, he was slowly losing the ability to care. It was gonna hurt either way, might as well take the option that made him smell less like a butcher shop.

Axl looked at his pathetic reflection in the mirror again. Those were gonna be some really ugly bruises in the morning. Probably worth seeing a doctor, just to see how bad it was. He didn’t have very high hopes.

“Geez.” He pressed his back to the wall and slid down, still clutching a wad of paper towels to his face, ready to wait out the night. “The future sucks.”


End file.
